Internal Bleeding

I was sitting in my swivly sleek office chair with my feet up on my desk chatting on the phone in my New York apartment. It was one of those rare moments in life where you just feel super awesome about yourself. Well, it's moments like this, the universe doesn't like. So, as not to let your ego get too out of control, it busts you. BOOM! My foot slips off the desk, I drop the phone and fall backwards onto nothing but the corner of my air conditioner, landing on my back breathless. My first thought: am I dead? I tried to get up. No, I'm alive. But it hurts to move. My back. My kidney! Oh. My. God. Internal bleeding. I busted my kidney and now I'm going to die. Just my luck. Awesome. I take hold of my phone and try to crawl to the computer to Google internal bleeding symptoms. I can't reach my laptop. Without hesitation, as to not waste a precious moment of my last seconds to live, I call my roommate: "I think I'm dying. I have internal bleeding." Her being used to my Hypochondriac antics she is a bit more constructive: "Do you pee blood?" She asks calmly. "No! I mean I don't know! I can't move, I can't make it to the toilet!" "Ok... do you have shortness of breath? Lightheadedness?" I think about it for a moment. Things start to spin. "Oh my gosh, YES!" "Oh, you're perfectly fine. I gotta get back into class. Pop a Tylenol and watch some TV." Click. The phone hangs up. Now, if you are or if you have ever known a Hypochondriac, you know that once one random person, medical specialist or not, says you are ok, you start to feel a bit better. The lightheadedness subsides, and the shortness of breath you thought you had seems to disappear. A few hours later I find myself completely healed with a bit of a bruise but none the less, sitting at dinner being the talk of the table about my near death experience that day.

By the way, it costs a hefty $95 to fix a broken corner of an air conditioner.